The Gang Leader's Desire

(Chapter 1)The Watch

New York City at night is beautiful. Every light on the street making it glow like stars.

How could something so beautiful be so sad.

I walked aimlessly on the sidewalk till I found a vacant bench behind a trash can. No one would be able to see me.

I sighed and set my belongings down beside me. I took out my small homemade pillow and put it on the bench. I stretched and tied my backpack strap to my wrist so I would know if someone was trying to steal it. Not like I had anything valuable.

I took my cheap over-sized goodwill jacket and draped it over myself like a blanket.

I looked up at the sky wondering.

Why me

It isn't my fault, and that's the truth.

I had so many regrets in life. Too many to count.

As much as I hated my mother, I missed her dearly. She was awful, but she was mine and now she wasn't.

I want to go back, but I knew I couldn't. I was perfectly fine right now. I knew I would eventually run out of money and everything, but right now I just wanted to sleep.

The stench of the dumpster ripped my thoughts away and filled them with rotting banana peels and molding fruits. I tried to swat the smells away.

Eventually my tiredness got the best of me and I fell asleep. 

I dreamed of a life of riches and happiness.

But of course all good comes to an end.

I woke to a group of passerby's.

I stretched, checked to see if my bag was still connected, and gulped down the lasting water in my bottle.

My back was pounding with pain from the wood bench.

I found a public bathroom and quickly soaked my 3 day old clothes in water and soaped them down. Then used the drier to dry them. I folded the clothes and changed into my new clothes.

I brushed my hair out with my tiny brush and brushed my teeth. I don't care how limited my supplies were, I would be clean. I washed my arms with the water and soap and then my legs. I washed the rest of my body with paper towels hiding in one of the stalls.

I sprayed dry shampoo and conditioner in my hair and re-brushed my hair.

I looked my self once over and decided I looked presentable. Or at least like a normal person. My crazy, thick, long, caramel colored hair reached my bellybutton. My bright blue eyes looked alive on my freshly washed skin. I slapped my cheeks a few times to give them color.

I grabbed onto my necklace. It was the last thing I had from my mom before she chose her addiction to drugs and alcohol over me. Sometimes loosing someone to those kind of things is much more traumatizing than an actual death, because the old them is still there, but masked by an evil that cannot be destroyed.

I packed up my back pack and wiped it down so it didn't look dusty. Then I walked out of the bathroom and headed to the coffee shop I always go to.

If I was lucky maybe I could seduce a man to buy me something to eat.

I opened the door and the bell rang. It was probably my favorite store in New York.

It was a mix of a bookstore and coffee shop and very vintage looking.

I sat down at my table that faced the counter so no one could see what I could be doing on my phone or computer... etc.

I set my backpack on the seat and got up to "use" the bathroom.